The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

AS GOOD AS GOll). i D CHAPTKR IV.â€" (Continued.) Th» lamplights now jtlimmcred through the engirdling <Meea. oonvpy- Ing II .wnse of groat snugneM and com- fort injide. and rendering at (he same time the unlightcd country without Jingle of glocBes, and the drawing of corks. The blinda, moreover, being left unclosed, the whole interior ot thiB room oould lie survejned from the lop of a flight of st«pfl opposite, for wiilL'b ^«^atou u knot of idlers bad gath- ered there. We ini^ht, perhaps, after all, make strangely solitary and vacant in as- a few inquiries aboutâ€" our relation, Mr. poet, considering its nearness to life. Henchard," whispered Mrs. Newson, _,.;.. 1 t ~K „„j ' who, 8uw» her entry into Oasterbridge, The difference lietween burgh and ^^^ geemed strangely weak aad agitat- champaign wna Increased, too, by ^ "And thia. 1 think, would be a sounds which now rea^rhed them alxive j good place for trying itâ€" just to ask, others-the notcj, of a Iwas, band. The , yo.<A know, how he staflds m the town if he IS liere, as I tbmk he must !«. tv^vellers wandered down the High Street, »-here there were tlml)er houses with overhanging storiea, whose small- paned lattices were screened t>y dim- ity curtaina on a drawing-string, and under whose barge-boards old cobwebs waved in the breeze. There were nouses of brick-nogging, which derived their chief support from those adjoining. There were slate roofs patched with tiles, and tile roofs patched with slate, with occasionally a roof of thatch. The agricultural and pastoral char- actmr of the people upon whom the town depended for its existence was Abown by the class of objetits displayed In the shop-windows. Scythe, reap- hooks. sheep-shears, bill-hooks, spades, mattocks, and hoes at the ironmong- er's ; beehives, butter-firkins, churns, milking-stools and pails, hay-rakes, field-flagons, and seed-lips at the coop- er's; cart-rOpes and plough-harness at the saddler's; cxirn-drills and winnow- Ing-machines at the wheelwright's and machinist's; horse-embrocations at the chemist's ; at the glover's and leather- cutter's hodging-glovps. thalcher's knee- caps, ploughman's legging«>, villager's pattens and clogs. They came to a grizzled church. whone massive square tower rose un- broken intfl the darkening sky, the lower parts being illuminated by the nearest lamps sufficiently to show how completely the mortar from the joints of the stonework had been nibbled out by time and weathe^, jvbich had planted in the cpevirea thufAnade little tufts of stone-crop and grass almost as far up ad t he very tjattlemenls. From this tower the clock struck eight, and thereupon a Ijell l)egan to toll «ith a peremptory clang. The curfew was still rung in Casterbridge, and it was Qtiliaed by the inhabitants as a sig- nal for shutting their shops. No sooner did the deep notes of the IwU throb l)e- tween the houae-fronts than a clatter of shutters arose through the whole length of the High Street. In a few minutee business at Casterbridge was ended for the day. Other clocks struck eight from tiooe to timeâ€" one gloomily from the gaol, anottuxr frotn the grable of an alms- houae, with a. preparative oreak of machinery, more audible than the note of the Ijell ; a row of tall, varnish- ed case-clocks from tlie interior of a watchmaker's shop joined in one after another just as the shutters were en- closing them, like a row of actors deliv- ering their final sijeeches before the fall of the curtain ; then chimes were heard stanunerLng out the Sicilian Mariners' Hymn; so that olirunologisls of the advanced school were apjireci- ably on thcii way to Ibf next hour before th» whole buslne'> of the old one was »atisfa<--torily wound up. In an open space before the church walked a woman with her gown-sleeves rolled up so high that the edge of her under-linen was visible, and her skirt tucked up through her pocket-hole. She carried a lo;if iui<ler her arm, from roaring dinners"â€" wavinif her hand to- whiijh she was pulling pieces of bread, and hiinding them to some other wo- men who WlUk(^(l with her; which pieces they nibbled critically. The sight re- minded Mm. Henchard-Newson and her daughter that they had an appetite ; a-d they inquired of the woman for the nearest Inker's. "Ye may as well look for manna-food as good bread in Casterbridge just now," she said, after direx:ling them. '"I'liey can blare their trumpets and thump their drums, and have their raorlng dinners" â€" waving her hand to- wards a point farther down the stre<>t, wlvere the bnias Uind ix>uld lie seen slajiding in front of an illuminated buildingâ€" "but we must needs Iw put- to for want of a wholesome crust. Tliere's less good bread than good beer in Casterbridge now." "And less good beer than swipes," said a man virlth bis hands in bis poc- keta. I "How does it li.a|>p«n there's no good bread f" a«ked Mrs. Hencliard. "t)h, 'tis the corn-factorâ€" he's the man that our niillera and bakers all deal wi", and he has sold 'em grown wheat, which they didn't know was grown, so tljey say, till the dough ran all over the ovens like quicksilver ; so that the loaves l>e as flat as toads, and like suet Dudden inside. I've been a wife, and I've been a mother, and 1 never see sucJi unprincipled brejid in Casterbridge as this befor«»~ IJut you iflkat ha a real stranger here not to knW what's made all tie jr-or folks pliin like blow- e<l blathers this week?" "I am," said Klizalieth's mother •hwly. , Not wishing to be oliserved further till she knew more of lier future in this place, she withdr«iw with her daughter from tiift speaker's side. Getting a couple of biacuita at the shop indicale^l, as a temporary substitute lor a meal, tiiey nest Iwnt their ateiis instinctively to where the music was playing. CUAPTBR V. A few aoore yaj-da brought them to the spot whe(ru the town l>and was now shaking the window-tmnea with the strains of "The Roast Beef of Old England." 'Ine IniUdlng lieforo whose doors they haxl pitched tneir music/^tand was the chief lu>tel in Casterbridge â€" namely, The Golden Crown. A spacious bow- window projected into the street over tilB nialn portico, and from the open â- asbea cante the babble of volc«a, the You, Klizalieth-Jajie, had better to the one to do it. I'm too worn out to do anythingâ€" pull down your fall first." Sue sat down upon the lowest step, and Elizal)eth-Jane ol)eyed her directions and stood among the idlers. "What's goiiig on to-night?" asked the girl after singling out an old man, and standing by him lon^ enough to acquire a neighbourly right to con- verse. V s^"Well, ye must be a stianger sure," said the old man, without taking his eyes from the window. "Why 'tis a great public dinner of the gentle-peo- ple and such like leading folkâ€" wi" the Mayor in the chair. As we plainer fellows baint invited, they leave the winder-shutters open that we may get jeat a sense o't out liere. if you mount the stejB you can see 'em. That's IVIr. Henchard. the Mayor, at the end of the table, a facing ye; and that's the Council-men right and left. . ; Ah. lota of them when they begun life were no more than I be now I" "Henchard?" said Elizabeth-Jane, surprised, but by no means suspecting the whole force of the revelation. She ascended among the other people to the space at the top of the steps. Her mother, though her head was lx)wed, had already caught from the window tones that str.xngely riveted her aflention. Ijefore the old man's words. "Mr. Henchard, the IVIayor," reached her ears. She arose, and ascended In her daughter's rear as soon as she could do so without showing exoti/i ionai eagerness. Tlie interior of the hotel dining-room was spread out liefore her, with its tables, and gliiss, and plate, and in- mate.s. Facing the window, in the chair of dignity, sat a man approaching forty years of age ; of heavy frame, large features, and commarnling voice; his general build lieing rather coarst than compact. He had a rich c.implex- ion, which verged on swarthinesa, a fhshing black eye. and dark, oushy broi\-s .^nd hair. When he indulged in an occasional loud laugh at some re- mark .-uiinng the guests his large mouth parted so f;ir back as to show to the rays of the chandelier a full score or more of the two-and-thirty sound white teeth thiit he obviously still could boost of. That laugh was not encouraging to strangej-s ; and hence it may have Wen well t.h.at it was rarely heard. Many theorie.s might have Iven built upon it. It fell in well with con.iecture« of a temper.ament which would have no pity for weakness, but would tie ready to yield ungrudging admiration to great- ness luid strength. Its producer's per- son-al goodness, if he had any, would lie of a very fitful cast â€" an occasional almost o()pres8ive genernsitv rather than a mild and con.stant kindne.ss. tSiisan Henchard's husbjindâ€" in law, at le.istâ€" *at. before them, matured in sh^ipe, stiffened in line, exaggerated in traits; dis<'iplined, thought-markedâ€" â€"in a word, older. Fli-'nlvth, encum- bered with no recollections as her mother w.as, regarded him with noth- ing more than the keen purinsity and inti're.st which discovery of such un- exj)ected social standing in the lonor- sought relative nnturallv begot. He was dreased in an old-fashioned even- ing suit, an expanse of frilled shirt showing on his broad breast: jewelled studs; and a heavy gold chain. Three frla-sses stood at hLs right hand ; but. o hLs wife's surprise, the two for wine were emptv. while the third, a tumbler, was half full of wiiter. When last «h«( had seen hini he was silting in a light fustian jacket, cor- doroy wiiitscoat and breeches, and tan Ijpd leather leggings, with a basin of hot fnrmity liefore him. Time, the magician, had wrought much here. Watching him, and thus thinking of pa-st days, she l>ecjm<' so moved that she shrank Iwiok against the iamb of the deep doorwav to which the .steps gave acw.sa, the shadow from it conven- ientlv hiding her f<vitures. .''he for- got her daughter, till a touch from Flizalieth arouaed her. "Have you seen him, mother?" whispered the girl. "Yes, yes," answered her companion liastily. "t have seen him. and it is enough for me I Now I only want to go â€" pass away â€" die." "Whvâ€" O what?" She drew closer, and whispered in her mother's ear. "Does he seem to you not likely to t>e- friend as? I thought he looked a generous man. What a gentleman he is, isn't he ? and how his diamond studs shine I How strange that you should have said he might \wi in the .stocks or in the workhouse, or dead I Did ever anything go more by contraries! Why do you feel so afraid of him ? I am not at all ; I'll call upon himâ€" he can but say he don't own such remote kin." "I don't know at allâ€" T can't tell what to set about. I feel so down." "Don't l)e that, mothejr, now we have got here and all I Re«t there where you !» a little while â€" I will look on and find out more about him." "T don't think I can ever meet Mr. Henchard. He Is not how I thought he would lie â€" he overpowers me. I don't wish to see him any more." "But wait a little time and consid- er." Klizabeth-.Tane had never been so much interested in anything in her life as in their pr<'sent iiosition, partly from the natural elation she felt at discovering herself akin to a coach ; and she gazed again at the scene. The younger guests were talk- ing and eating with animation; their elders were searching for tid-bits, and sniffing and grunting over their plates lilfe .sows nuzzling for acorns. Three drinks seemed to t>e sacred to the com- panyâ€"port, sherry, and rum ; outside which old-established trinity few nap no palates ranged. A row ot ancient rummers with ground fippires on their sides, and each grimed with a apoon. was now placed own the tivble, and these were prompt- ly tilled with grog at such high tem- teratures as to raise serious considera- tions for the articles exposed to its vapours. But Fliznl>pth-Jane noticed that, though this filling went on with great promptness up and' down the tap ble, noliody filled the Mayor's glass, who still drank large quantities of wa- ter from the tuiQb)er li^hind the clump of crystal ve-ssela tB^^l^ed for wine and spirits. xi^r "They don't fill Mr. Henchard'a wine- glasses," she venturejl to say to her elliow acquaintance, the old man. "Oh no; don't ye know him to lx« the celebrated alwtaining worthy of that name? He scorns all tempting li- quors; never touches nothing. Oh ye.s. he've strong qualities that way. I have heard t«ll that he sware a gos- pel oath in bygone times, and has bode by it ever since. So they don't press him, knowing it would tieunl>ecoming in the face of that; for yer gospel oath is a serious thing." "Another elderly man. hearing this discourse, now joined in by inquiring, "How much longer have he got to suffer from It, Solomon Longways?" "Another two year they say. I don't know th« why and the wherefore of his fixing such a time, for a' never has told anyt>ody. But 'tig exactly two calendar years longer, they say. A powerful mind to hold out so long I" "True But there's great strength in hope. Knowing that in four-and-twenty months' time ye'll be out of your bondage, and able to make uji for all you've suffered, by partaking without stint ; why, it keeps a man up, no doubt." "No doubt, Christopher Coney, no doubt. And 'a must need such reflec- tions â€" a lonely widow man," said Long- ways. "When did he lose his wife ?" asked Elizalieth. "I never knowed her. 'Twas liefore he came to Casterbridge." Solomon HOEEOES 0F_ CAPTITITY. HOW THE ABYSSINIANS TREATED THE ITALIAN PRISONERS. MUCH IN LITTLS. TblagiWvrthTblBklitc Abontâ€" lUtewIctlca Pat lata Matukellii. The miserable are sacred. Humor is wit and love. It is sure tlus iiardest sci«nc« !• focw get. Happiness is a rare cosmetic. I lielieve In great men, but not ia demigods. Ideal lieauty is a fugitive never loc*> Story T«ld by a Belnrard llallan Soldier -Tke 4'raeltleii PracllMMl by tli« .Matlve Holdlrrs. The soldiers who have fought in Africa are returning to their villages j _^ now. I sont a werd to Private Gio- I j^j. vanni do Lucca, of Caaarza, that I 1 fhe mother's heart ia the child'! should feel thankful if be would come ' school roona. and tell me al»ut the war. "The Afri- | Our possessions are wholly in our per-. can hero," I said, as he was ushered i formancea. inâ€" for the "paese" had been ringing j Calamity is a maa'a true touchy with stories of him and four other sol- i °"*' ^ ,,. J. _ , 1 » „ u J „^,> There are follies as catclung as coo» diers. whose reaations had worn mourn- , i^g^^ disorders. ing for Ihejo. says a Ligurian letter j jj^^y ^ j-^^ manure, of very littla in the London News. use, except to be spread. "So you fought at Aljukarima?" I Pleasures bring effeminacy and ef- "Yes, indeed," he said. "We bad ' feminacy foreruns ruin. marched and marched, twedve hours ' Other men are lenses through which at a stretch, I think. Then we lay ' '«'« read our own minds. down. But at midnight we wer» ijn struggling with misfortunes Ilea J .Z. ? u , . * â-  ui u _. ' the true proof of virtue. aroused. To Abukarima â€" eight bours „ i. j- a • iu i. i s , , . ^ , Each suix:eedmg day is the scholar ot rnarcb, and we started. tiat which proceeded. - "We had a beautiful position. 'The q. friend, so long as I study and prao- Galla cavalry was on our left. We tice humility, I know where I am. were posted along the ridge of a hill; ' Fortitude is_ the marshal of thought Longways repLad, with terminative em- ph.'isis, as if Hie fact of his ignorance of Mrs. Henchard were sufficient to de- frive her history of all interest. "But know that 'a's a banded teetotaller, and that if an.v of his men be ever bo little overtook by a drop, he's down up- 'rrn as stern as the Lord upon the jo- v'.i' Jews." "Hits he many men. then?" said Elizal)eth-.Tane. "Many? Why, my good maid, he's the powerfullest meml)er of the town- council, and quite a principal man in ibe country round l)esides. He and Casti^rbridge l>ank-folk are sworn bro- thers. Never a big dealing in wheat, Imrley, oata, hay, roots, and such-like i'l I hi-: county out Henchard's got a hand in it. Ay. and he'll go into oti or t.^ings. too ; and that 's where he makits hi.s mistake. He worked his way up from nothing when 'a came here ; and now he's a pillar of the town. Not but wh.at he's been shook a little to-year about his liad corn he has supplied in bifi contracts. I've seen the .sun rise over Casterbridge Moor thejie nine-and- sixty year, and though Mr. Henchard has never cussed me unfairly ever since I've worked for'n. seeing I be but a little small man, and though 'tis not my interest to apak against him. I must sjiy that I have never before tast- ed such rough bread as hev l>e.en made from Henchard's whe.at lately. 'Tia that growed out that ye could a'most call it malt, and there's a list at bot- tom o' the loaf as thick as the irole of one's shoe." The band now struck up another mel- ody, and by the time it was ended the dinner w:u) over, and speeches l>egan to lie made. The evening l>eing calm, â- ind the windows still open, these ora- tions could be distinctly heard. Hen- ch.iril's voice arose above I he rest ; he was telling a story of bis hay-dealing ei|)eriencei. in which he had outwitted I sharper who had been t>ent on out- witting him. "H.a-ha-ha I" reuponded his audience at tho upshot of the story ; and hilar- ity was general till a new voice arose with, "This is all very well; but how about the l>ad bread?" It came from the lower end of the table, wh^re there sat a group of mi- nor tradcfiuien who. although part of the company, appeared to Ik) a little below the social level of the others; and who seemed to nourish a certain indei>endenue of o^jiuiou, and carry on di.scuasioiis not quite in harmony with thoi.'tu at the head ; just as the west end of a church is sometimes (lersistent- ly found to sing out of lime and vune with the leading spuits in the chancel. This iuterru^liou about I he bad bread afforded infinite satisfaciiuu to the loungers outside, several of whom were in the mood which finds its pleasure in otQera' discomfiture; and bcuce I hey echoed pretty freely. "Hey I Uow about the bad bread, Mr. Mayor I" Moreover, feeling none of tlie reatraints of iboBie who shared thu feast, Ibey could afford to add, "\ou rather ought to tell tbe story o' that, sir !" The interruption was sufficient to cuiii[)el tbe Mayor to notice it. "Well, I admit that the wheat turn- ed out badly," be said. "But I was taken in in liuyiug it as much as tbe bakers who bought it o' me. "And the poor folk had to eat it whe- ther or no, " liaid the inharmonious man outside the window. Henchard's faixt darkened. There was temper under the thin bl;ind surfiiceâ€" the temper which, artificially intensi- fied, had banished a wife nearly a score of years before. " i'ou muat make allowances for the accidents of a large business," he said. "You must iHjar in mind that the wea- ther just at the harvest of that corn was worse than we have known it for years. However, 1 have mended my arrangements on account o't. Since I have found my busiuesd too large to be well looked after by myself alone, I have advertised for a thorough good man as manager of the corn depart- ment. When I've got him you will find these mistakes will no longer occurâ€" matters will ha Ijetter looked into." "But what are you going to do to repay us for tbe past?" inquired the man who had Ijefore spoken, and who ^leemed to l>e a baker or miller. "Will you replace the grown flour we've got by sound grain?" Henchard's face had grown still more stern at these interruptions, and he drank from bis tumtder of water as if to calm himself or gain time. Instead ot vouclisafing a direct reply ho stiffly observed : "If anylxMly will tell me how to turn frown wheat into wholesome wheat, '11 take it back with pleasure. But it can't lie done." Henchard was not to l>o drawn again. Having said this he sat down. (To be Continued.) on the right was what we thought an empty ravine. Very, very soon we knew that s^me bad thing had happened. How could that be? But we kn£W it. We said to each other. 'Never miod; the tide may turn again..' But by 10 a. m., he and 109 others yt""* ^^ ^y the armour of the will, and tbe fort of reason. Into the composition of every happi- ness enters the thought of having de- served it. Whenever the tree of beneficence takes root, it sends forth branches be- were down to tbe ravine, and "it was a« full of Abyssinians as an ant hill is of ants." ^ MAKING THE CHARGE. "The word came ; 'Fix bayonets'l Those there are whose hearts have a look southward, and are ox)en to tha whole noon of nature. Charity ever finds in the act reward^ and needs no trunntet in the receiver. FalM^hood is susceptible of an infinity of combinations, but truth has only oma And wo went to the charge. We were m^je of being. surrounded, however. My officer said: â-  ^^^ charities that soothes and heal 'There's nothing to be done. We're and bless are scattered at the feet oC prisoners.' And so we wexe â€" prisoners naan like flowers. of Has Mangaacia; and remained so fur A man intimately acquainted with f„_.. „ 1 u . r tu. the nature of things has seldom occasion forty-one daya. But some of the ^^^^ astonished. comrades not far off, wounded and un- ^rief or misfortune se«ms to be in- wounded, lay among the dead and dispensable to the development of in< dying, firing, firing, till they could not , telligence, energy and virtue, hold a guu for fatiguei. In the treatment of nervous cases, ha "Then they piled up the corpus of I"* ^^'': ^^\ physicaiu who is the most) , ,,_ , ,. u 11- mgemou-s mSUirer nf hiuie our fellow soldiers-ihree l»dies one j,,^.,j^ ;, j^j^^^ ^^^.^ ^^ ^^i^ j^^^ over anotherâ€" to make a giui rest. Thoy ^j^g transparent deeps, at the divine took cartridges from the dead around command, not knowing what we shaU about, and leaned against their dead take. gun resta, firing for twelve cousecuiive Friends are as companions on a jour- . D . L, 1 r» . ney, who ought to aid each other to hours. But we were marched off to j^r^vere in the road to a happier life. Abysiimau huts-dog kennels. haU ^yj^^j -^ fanaticism to-day is th-. underground, three feet square of an fashionable creed to-morrow, and trita entrance to creep through â€" len prison- as the multiplication table a week after. era together. Some of us were chain- ed cIo»! to the grouud Liy the wrist- chained to a slalcie in tbe floor. I was never chained that way. BURNING THE PRISONERS, "it was four o'clock in tile after- noon, and we had had no food fur 21 hours. 1 told our guards we must eul. They brought us a double hand- ful of Ubgrouud barley aud raw len- tils, and ihu same of dried peas; aud between every ttiree of us one little bowl of water. We ground the bar- ley lietween stones and made that flour into a paste with the watex, and ate Tbe great leasom of a loss, as tba proverb suggests, is determinable, not BO much by what we have lost, as by what we have left. Fun has no limits. It is like tbe hu- man race and face; there is a family likeness among all tbe species,but they all differ. LUNACY IN ENGLAND. . still OB the IncreatF liaoac the raaper 4'lau In That Conutry. The fiftieth annual report of the it raw. Lentils and paaa we put into Ouuimissioners in Lunacy for the year our pojlLPtii, and munched at tbtiu now and lhi«n as the hunger drove ua. Tbotie were the rations every day fur forty- one days. "We were told that Ros Mangaacia had sent word to Uen. B:ildia«era that as he was liurniiig Aliyssiuian huts at Adigrat the ilxn would liurn us llaliau prisoners. After we kuew that we lived in dread, aud some of ua wept. The enemy staked the captain of my company. They first gouged out his eyeti, aud then they lit a fire aliout him and rousted him pa his stake. My general, Brimonte, was killed at Abu- karima, l>ut he was kUltnl in fair fiaj^." "Was it true," I asked, "tbatVey mutilated the wounded?" "Ah. true, indeed," said Giovanni, in 1896 has liee'U presented to parliament, and it shows a continuance in that in- crease of insanity > among the pauper class which for some years, has been steadily progressive. The number of officially known lunatics, idiots and persons of unsound mind in England and Wiiiles on tho 1st of January, 1896, was 96,146, toeing an increase of ;l,3t>5 upon tbe curre«i>ouding number on tha Isc of January, 1895. This is an in- cjvas.< of i.^ pe>r cent among the luna- tics Ihemselveci, and, tbe population iie^ ing taken at SO.OUU.UJO, it is au incn-aaa of aliout eight in each lO.UtN) pei-sous. raising the total lunacy of the country his even, hollow tones. "They cut off | to a little over thijty par lU.OtX). Thi_ their hands and their feet, aud burned i proportion has advanced from 18.'76 per tb» poor fedlows afterwardl And in one hospital â€" a small hospitalâ€" there were 50U without the left leg, and tbe right arm. After a liattJe t^e enemy's cav- alry would gallop oveir tbe field and thrust again and again at the helpless wounded." STRUCK WITH IDIOCY. And he told these horrors without any show of special emotion. What curdled his blood and nearly stopped his speech was, stniuge to say, the long t«eth â€" long and white â€" of the At>yasinuiJis." "They are as long as this," murmured Giovanni, marking off two joints of his Large thumb. One of the misfortunes that befeJl youD^ Italian soldiers was to be struck lO.IM) in 1859, or, in otbeir words, if tbe figures can Ik taken as correct, in- saoity has nearly douliled itself in tha course ot thirty-aevevu yinars. It is re- maxkaUe that the advance t has been almost wholly in tbe pa.uper class, as the ratio of private paiionta to popur latiou was 2.38 p«vr lU.OUU iu 1859, and it is no mure thui 2.69 in thie present year, for which in this ullass there haa lieen a slight reduction in the ratio, while that of tbe pauper class is H higher. The ratio to 10,000 of popula- tion in 1886 for the private class was 2.83; anil if the samis ratio had exist- ed on the Ist of last Janu-ary, tho es- timated population then being nearly 31,000,000, there would have twen 8,696 private patients instead of the actual withldiocy when they found themselves I nujnijer of 8,265. In estimating the WOULDN'T SUIT THE FURNITURE. Doctorâ€" No wonder you are slok. Open the blinds and let the sunshine in- to your room. Fair Patientâ€" Mercy I It wouldn't harmonize with this expensive furni- ture. Sunshine ia disgustingly cheao. under fire, Giovanni said, "it happened to many." There was one of them here a few days ago. He was being taken by another soldier to a famous place of pilgrimage, and he was utterly bereft of sense- not miul, l>ut a jabbering idiot. And another danger that all ran was fruni thiv poistmous water. AMONG WILD BEASTS. Next in horror after the "white, great, long, Abyssinian teeth," comes his rememlirance of the wild tieasts. "Going up thi< country." he s;iid, "pan- I hers, lions, leopards, some tigers (and terrible creatures with unknow^n 'pa- tois' names) came cU«se to us. In the dark something >viould brush byâ€" but close, close byâ€" a hyena, probably. I »iw a panther spring upon a com- rade, and take a piec« out of the side of his face. I saw another pantheir tear the lack of the neok and head of a man of another regiment. "When we were- coming buck, after we were released," he said, "the wild beasts were not so bad. You see, they had lieen gorged with oamel fleab, and, â€" ItaliansI "Wo took twonty-thpee days to come out of Baa Mangascia's hands to Adi- kayehâ€" a straggling vompauy, nearly worn out, and there's hardly one that can tell the tale that I have told you. Nearly all the others are dead." Ana the saddest i>art ^I'ms to me that Giovauni, just (Kick from the wars â€"Giovanni, who had suffered so much for his countryâ€" c;innot find a living in Italy, but must go off to Marseilles to worK a* a day laborer in France^ value of thesd figures it must lie re- membered that a large number of so- called pauper lunatics are persons who sink into the pauper ctlass as a conse- quence of insanity, and that many of them were pirevioudly in respectable to- sitlons. AN EVERY-DAY SCENE. fUM Pedestrian- What's all that about in that houseâ€" wedding ? Residentâ€" No. A new laby arrived last night, and all the women in the neighlKirhood &re going into ecstasies ovex it. Who us that tall man all tbe women are cro^vdinp around ? He is a imnist«r, come to fix a data for the christening. And who is the short man who at- tracts so much attention ? He is the doctor. < Ah I I see. That no-account fel- low, who U being inished out of the way or run over, is the hired man, I (pre- sume? No; he's the father. LAWS OF HEALTH. Trampâ€" Thankee kindly, mum ; I'd na hope ot gettin' sich a fine supper to- day, mum. May Heaven bless ye I Housekeeper â€" As' you've had a good supper, I think you might chop soma wocxl. \'es, mum; but you know the old adage. "After dinner re.st a whilej after supper walk a mile." I'll walk the mile first, mum. /